


Reflection

by mortifera



Series: Of Past Memories [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M, dont mind me posting this months after i wrote this, got idea from skype, this shit is old af, up and wrote it, we were chatting about a situation like this so i just, your welcome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4519008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortifera/pseuds/mortifera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When will my reflection show who I am inside?</p><p> </p><p>Just little drabbles of neah and past!allen</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Running through the corridors wasn't exactly his brightest decision, but he'd been trying his best to avoid the stubborn pest which had stuck to his side, since though he didn't mind Link per say, it was irritating when it became apparent that he refused to leave his side for a moment and give him just the slightest bit of privacy. He understood the Order's fear, but was all this really necessary? He'd never betray them, especially when he didn't know a thing about this other Noah, nor did he recall possessing connections to this man. But.....that shadow he saw whenever he looked in the mirror was undeniable that person, and it terrified him to know that something lurked inside of him, a parasite using his body and preparing at any moment to make use of its host.

 

It was these thoughts which had distracted him, practically rushing right into Lavi without realizing it before it was too late, some sort of liquid spilling all over him and soaking his clothes. He looked over to see the now half filled bottle spilling the remainder of its contents onto the floor, a label with quickly scrawn letters read hair tonic, causing him to freeze, tentatively reaching to feel his hair, which now extended much further down and nearly at his waist.

 

"Oops!" Allen heard Lavi say with an apologetic grin, "My bad Allen, didn't see ya there buddy!" Allen could only glare at Lavi, since he was partially responsible for causing this. 

 

"It's fine, I'll just cut it."

 

"No!!! It looks good on ya beansprout, keep it!! Ya look like Yuu-chan!!" Lavi whined.

 

"All the more reason to cut it. Also, it's Allen." He stomped away, ignoring the other's calling and walking to his room, figuring he may as well tie it up so it would get out of his way, since he didn't want to chance cutting his hair and making it even more of a mess. As he found his way into his room, he searched for something to tie it with, since he'd never really needed to do it before, all he could find was some old ribbon he'd gotten from a gift, though he couldn't recall who had given him it.

 

He found it trickier than he'd anticipated, trying to recall how Kanda usually did his own, but it only slipped out or missed large sections of his hair. Sighing, he moved to the mirror reluctantly, having avoided them for the most part ever since that thing had appeared. He didn't recall the exact moment he'd realized it's presence, but ever since the Ark incident, every reflective surface revealed the menacing shadow that lurked behind him, watching, but never speaking. He wasn't sure what creeped him out more, the silence or the fact that no one else could see it. Either way, he'd taken it upon himself to ignore it whenever he saw it, and to avoid mirrors whenever he could.

 

As per usual, he saw the murky figure behind him, gazing blankly as Allen tried to fix his hair into a ponytail. As he tried to do so, his own image suddenly wavered, and then disappeared altogether, a taller man replacing him, with long, waist length auburn hair. He had very similar features to his own, even the silver eyes that many had shied away from. He too, was pulling his hair into a ponytail, though he seemed more accustomed to it, easily wrapping the red ribbon around his hair. Beside him, where the shadow of the fourteenth had been, was a young man whom looked quite similar to Mana, although much younger, and with short, messy hair that appeared uncombed.

 

They seemed to be talking, the long haired man appearing anxious, as he spoke quickly, refusing to meet the fourteenth's gaze. The fourteenth suddenly placed his arms around the other, whom flushed lightly and struggled to get away. It was bizarre, to watch these....memories, visions, whatever they were, and to be able to feel arms wrap around his own waist. Allen resisted the urge to look away, curiosity getting the better of him and dealing with the ghostly touches. 

 

The long haired man continued to stare anywhere but where the fourteenth was, seeming to mutter something underneath his breath darkly, which provoked a laugh from the fourteenth, whom smiled and kissed the other's neck. The odd sensation of cold lips pressed against his neck caused him to jump, momentarily distracted, similarly, the long haired man flinched, smacking the fourteenth over the head and yelling something, his face flushed in chagrin.

 

"Walker, what on earth is taking you so long?" Link's growl snapped him out of his trance, the vision disappearing as quickly as it had come, the only thing remaining being himself and the shadow, which looked, though it may have been his imagination, like it was crying.


	2. Phantom Touches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Neah is sentimental and shows Allen something kind of nice. If your idea of nice is naked in bed with your past lover.

Ever since the prior incident, memories about that long haired man constantly infiltrated his dreams, his daily life, anything and everything seemed to trigger them at this point. As much as it scared him to learn of the relationship the fourteenth had with this man, whom looked so similar to himself, it also prodded his curiosity, wondering if he could perhaps learn from these visions more about the fourteenth. He was under the impression that the fourteenth was showing him these, perhaps to sway his judgement, convince him that he wasn't a danger, but whatever it was, he felt the need to react hostile to any sort of manipulation. Though he could never hear what exactly they were saying, he could read their lips, and decipher much of their conversation from that, though it only appeared to be arbitrary topics, nothing of relevance to who the fourteenth was or what his intentions were. The only thing he could gather, was that the fourteenth seemed to find pleasure in provoking the other and making him angry, appeasing him with light, feathery touches, either in form of a hug or a fleeting kiss. He didn't particularly enjoy the feeling of someone touching him without his consent, especially a creepy shadow which threatened to kill him, but oddly enough, they comforted him, and as much as he was inclined to say otherwise, a part of him looked forward to them. 

Sometimes, when he found it difficult to sleep, he would hear a soft voice crooning a melody in his ear, the tranquil tune vaguely familiar as he lulled off to sleep, often grateful for it, though he pretended otherwise.

He hadn't bothered to tell anyone about this new behavior, as he didn't desire further supervision, Link was a handful on his own, but also because he was selfish, wanting to keep this side of the fourteenth only he and this other man knew about a secret. So it continued, the seemingly arbitrary dreams, and those loving, ghostly touches.

One particular day, when suspicion had been thicker than usual, and a finder had blamed him for the recent attack, screaming in his face that he was a traitor to the organization, and was trying to get them all killed. Though he'd been aware that that particular finder had been going through a difficult time after losing his closest friend, it didn't make the pain lessen a bit, guilt gnawing at him, wondering if there was some truth to the finder's words. Was he really just a destroyer?

Trying to calm himself down, he heaved himself into his small bathroom, tears falling down his face against his will, angry at the entire world for making him live such a wretched life, but most of all, hating himself for being unable to do a single thing to protect his family at the Order. A hand cupped his face, an attempt to soothe him, but it only angered him, flinching away from it and glaring furiously at the mirror, directing all his hurt at the formless shadows.

 

"This is all your fault!!! I would never have had to go through any of this if it wasn't for you! Does it make you happy, watching me suffer because of your presence?! I hate you!" Allen screamed senselessly at the mirror, fist clenched tightly, knowing it was useless, but feeling so inundated with anger, fear, and hatred, the desire to punch something becoming overwhelming. He glared at the mirror before raising his fist, tears still falling from eyes as he tried to bring himself to break the mirror, battling with the part of him that he denied, the part of him that had grown to care for this thing, whose name he didn't even know of for sure. 

 

But he couldn't do it, collapsing to the floor as he let out a sob, wanting it to all be over, closing his eyes and escaping into the world of somnolence, seeking refuge there to escape the chaos of his collapsing world. It was a dark, turbulent sleep, nightmares eluding him, wandering through a dark abyss of nothingness, alone and crying. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, all he knew was at some point, he'd opened his eyes to find a world that was most certainly not the Order, groaning internally, because dear lord he could not handle another stupid vision or memory or whatever the fourteenth was doing. 

 

After some time though, he realized that he wasn't going to wake up any time soon, so he figured he may as well make the best of his current situation. It felt strange, because although the body he was residing in was his, he couldn't quite control it, he could only see through the eyes of the long haired man. Though, this time, it seemed he could hear what they were saying, as the twitter of birds and gentle stir of the wind coming from what he assumed to be an open window attested to this. Laying beside him, was the fourteenth, curled up close to him and sleeping peacefully, a blanket partially concealing his lower torso, the rest of his body exposed, lean and scarred by battle wounds. His hair was a soft purple shade, framing his face with curly, tangled hair, soft snores passing through his lips. Allen felt rather strange, gazing at the fourteenth in such a way, he'd never encountered anything like this before in his other visions. 

 

His body moved on it's own, gently caressing the cheek of the other, whom uttered a soft groan and began to slowly wake up, eyes fluttering open sleepily. It took a while for the other to finally achieve full consciousness, gazing contently at him with warm, golden eyes, which were oddly captivating, beautiful, even. 

 

"Morning, my love." The other murmured, reaching out to grasp his hand and kiss it lightly. He wasn't sure what to make of it all, having had a suspicion of the relationship the fourteenth had had with this man for a while. Now he was almost sure of it, but he didn't quite understand why he was having these visions. No, truthfully, he did understand the reason behind these visions, but he refused to admit to himself the bitter truth which he had been denying. With no memory of his childhood, his parents, even his own name, it had all been so odd, though it made sense if he believed himself to be an orphan. 

 

Suddenly, arms embraced him, and a gentle kiss was placed upon his lips, brief as it was, he felt a shiver of delight travel down his back.

"Distracted?"

He snorted, "As if."

 

"Mmm, that's not what you were saying last night, darling~ Or to be truthful, this morning."

"You're so full of it Neah." He groaned, Allen assuming Neah having been his human name that he kept after his transformation. "Yet you're not denying it."

It was quiet for a moment, before Allen felt himself reach out with his left arm, flinching internally, surprised that anyone could stand the touch or sight of the grotesque arm, yet was surprised when a normal, human arm extended to curl around Neah and scoot himself closer. 

 

"Shut up Campbell."

 

"Love you too, Allen."

 

Abruptly, he was thrust awake, the dream suddenly dissipating as quickly as it had come, the only trace of it engraved in the memories of the exorcist. He realized he was lying on the floor, tears falling freely, and the comforting presence of the shadow holding him as he began to weep in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos or a comment if you want to see more, I might add more drabbles if i feel motivated


	3. Another Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this contains a lot of graphic imagery, please don't read if you are sensitive to this sort of thing. Otherwise, enjoy this little drabble.

"Walker, are you even paying attention to me?" Link snapped at Allen for the fourth time that morning, glaring impatiently at the boy, who startled at the loud sound of Link's voice. "Honestly, what is with you today? First you only eat half of what you normally eat, and now this?" He clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

Allen sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, at a lost for words. He didn't really have an excuse for his inattentiveness, aside from the lack of sleep he'd gotten from the last few nights. Not to mention that Neah's usual reflection had disappeared, which troubled him more than he would have liked. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful or wary of the abrupt disappearance. It certainly wasn't like the other to just disappear, but then again, he hardly knew the Noah. Perhaps, although Allen realized this was merely wishful thinking, the other had left him, but at the same time, a part of him hoped he was alright.

"I'm sorry Link, I'm just really tired today." Allen murmured as he rubbed at his sore eyes, shaking his head a bit to wake himself up. "What was it that you were saying again?"

Link snorted, "I suppose it doesn't matter what I said now, since you're in no condition to complete what you were assigned. I'll tell Komui you're still exhausted from your last mission." He said this as though this was only adding to his list of things to do, but he knew at this point that the inspector did think in his best interest. Or, that's what it seemed like, he could never really tell when it came to Link.

"Thank you." He replied, forcing himself to his feet and standing still for a moment as a wave of exhaustion hit him, causing him to black out for a moment. He managed to catch himself on the table as he started to lean one way, jolting himself awake. Link watched all this with narrowed eyes, pursing his lips as he thought for a moment.

"Go eat Walker. Then go back to your room and get some proper rest." Allen blinked blearily, nodding once before stumbling his way to the cafeteria. He really didn't know where he was heading, finding it difficult to think and walk straight, but he ended up in the dining room regardless. It was rather quiet, save for a few finders who were not on missions. Once he'd gotten his "normal" meal from Jerry, who wished a speedy recovery, though he insisted he wasn't sick, just a bit tired, he'd made some casual conversation with the Finders. Oddly enough, they didn't seem too friendly, and though he was aware that some believed the rumors more than others, he'd been a bit hurt by their reluctance to even met his gaze.

It was as though he was a monster once more, recalling those ugly, disdained looks he'd earned as a child when people saw his arm.

Monster, they'd called him. Hideous, they'd whispered beneath their breath as they walked away from him in a hurried fashion, as though they were concerned that he carried some sort of malign plague.

He'd thought those days had passed, yet even here at the Order, the one place he thought he could call home, it was not safe.

Yet he beared with it, smiling apologetically at the Finders and excusing himself from the table, his food hardly touched.

"Allen, are you sure you're okay sweet cheeks?" Jerry called out to him as he headed towards the exit, pausing to craft his expression properly, casting a carefree smile.

"Just a little under the weather Jerry, I'm not feeling too hungry right now." He explained nonchalantly, waving his hand dismissively, as though there was nothing wrong with him losing his enormous appetite out of nowhere.

Jerry's expression did not change despite Allen's reassurance, only looking more concerned. "Are you sure? Your skin looks a bit odd, is something wrong with your innocence?"

His skin? Glancing down at his arm, he lifted the sleeve of his coat, finding nothing odd with the coloration of his skin, so he merely shrugged. "I might have been overusing it, but it's fine Jerry! I'll get a good night's sleep and wake up in the morning ready to eat all your food!" He said as ethuasiatically as he could, his smile a bit too wide and forced, but Jerry seemed to buy it, his expression softening.

"Alright Allen, but you take care of yourself alright?"

"I will Jerry, don't worry."

He was fortunate not to bump into anyone on his way back to his room, closing the door with a sigh. As he leaned against it, a painful headache suddenly started, the pain blinding him for a moment before disappearing as quickly as it had come. He felt sweat dripping down his forehead, wiping away at it with a gloved hand only to realize that the crimson blood was not sweat. Rushing into the bathroom, he saw a row of stigmas forming across his forehead, the searing white pain rushing through his head again. When it finally disappeared, he found that his skin had gone from pale to a sickly grey, shaking as it began to spread from his face and down his body.

He slammed into the wall, clawing at his skin in a desperate attempt to stop whatever was happening, though he knew it would do no good. His vision began to go fuzzy, trying to blink and restore clarity. As he did, a tall, familiar figure appeared before him, a jolt of fear traveling down his spine as the Neah before him was unlike any he had seen before.

Golden eyes, which had held warmth and a liveliness in them were now cold and callous, a maniacal smile riddled across his face. His features were harsh, sculpted into the vile expression that only a truly evil being could make. Dark matter surrounded him and created an aura of pure darkness, causing Allen to push himself further against the wall, unsure of whether or not he was hallucinating.

"You. You. Allen. My Allen." Neah rasped as a single finger trailed down his cheek, catching something wet which had fallen from his eyes against his will. "My dearest Allen. The one I trusted. What a fool I was, to give into that human emotion and allow myself to be played, when all along, you merely meant to betray me the moment you could."

Allen winced at the sharp tone in his voice, wondering if Neah was going to hurt him, frozen in fear. Crown Clown couldn't affect him or protect him, since this was just an illusion, a projection of Neah.

"Traitor." His face had drawn closer to his, his lips just inches away from his ear. "Liar."

"I'm not." He said suddenly, the words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them, watching as Neah's eyes narrowed even further.

"You're right." He simpered coldly, pulling away sharply. "You're much worse than that, Allen."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Allen snapped, tired of being called things he wasn't, tired of Neah playing these games and giving him only more questions. "I don't know who the hell you are and I sure as hell never knew you! Stop putting ideas in my head you asshole!"

It was quiet for a moment, Neah's face unreadable for a few moments, before it twisted away into a fierce scowl, hands extending out faster than Allen could react, grasping his neck and squeezing hard.

"After everything that I-" Breathing heavily, his voice sounded so distorted, deep, hateful, furious, his hands crushing against his windpipe and rendering him unable to breath, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to grasp for breath. "You wouldn't understand, no one does. What I did, what I did for you. Your promise. Why?! Where did your memories goes?!? Why!!?"

The hands released him as he collapsed on the floor, coughing and gasping as he was finally allowed to breath. He lay on the floor for several minutes, collecting himself as Neah merely glared icily at him.

"I won't forgive you. I never will." He spoke softly, all malice and hate gone, which made it only more terrifying. "Tonight, I'll teach you true terror."

With that last threat, he disintegrated before Allen, who didn't bother to move for several minutes, trying to digest what had even happened to him. He struggled to stand up, glancing at the mirror to find the stigmas gone, his skin back to normal, if a little paler. He stumbled back to his bed, forgoing his original intentions of a quick bath, passing out immediately when he hit the mattress.

Yet, in sleep, he found no peace, as the Noah stayed true to his word. As he drifted deeper into slumber, he did not dream pleasantries, but horrid, gruesome scenes that were surely the Noah's memories.

Bodies were strewn away carelessly, the scent of blood everywhere as ceaseless moans filled the dream, a constant amongst the shrieks and groans of pain. Pleas of mercy fell upon deaf ears, as blood was spilt and guts left to ooze out of the corpses.

Dull eyes that had once held life were devoid of anything, expression twisted into various expressions, some grimaced in agony as they spent their last breath hoping for mercy. Others in perpetual screams, mouth still agape as they said their last, cut open and left for dead as they were ripped to shreds.

The Noah's laughter rang in his ears, as nothing that moved was spared of his tireless killing spree, Noahs he'd never seen before cut open with a sword similar to his own, an arm flung aside carelessly. The Noah screamed before it was cut off untimely by a swift slice to the neck, which only cut through half of it, the body falling to the floor as an inhuman screech tore through the air, raising the hair on his arm even higher. Neah merely smiled as he cut once, twice, three times until the screaming stopped, the head finally removed from the body, which continued to twitch despite being decapitated. Bloodstained hands released the sword as it clattered to the ground, the mounds of death surrounding the Noah as he casually licked the substance from his hand, completely mad with bloodlust.

A young man with long locks of dark hair walked through the piles of corpses, sharing an uncanny resemblance to Neah.

He too, wore a deranged expression across his face, eyes bright with wanton lust for destruction and chaos. They circled each other slowly, never looking away from each other, before the other rushed at Neah and clawed at his face, earning a howl of agony as he stumbled away from the strange doppelganger.

"Do you really think you can kill me Neah?" It mused contently, wiping the blood and skin off his hand and onto his shirt. "I am the Millennial Earl, you can not stop the cycle once it begins."

Neah's face was healing slowly, muscles and sinew resetting in his face, gruesomely scarred by the other's quick attack. "I can do whatever I damn please, brother. You're insane, and I must restore everything to the way they once were."

"Fine. I'll kill you them." Faster than before, the other attacked once more, cutting through Neah's skin easily, as though it were nothing to him, blood exploding out as Neah collapsed to the floor, dead in an instant. The man stood above the bleeding corpse, grabbing one of the intestines and ripping it in half, a disgusting squelching sound causing Allen to flinch, having been frozen in pure, unadulterated terror. The other finally appeared to notice Allen, gazing at him for a little bit before the twisted smile fell and turned cunningly benevolent.

"Allen, you remember me, don't you?" It whispered in a sing song voice, eliciting a visible shiver from Allen, who could not move nor speak. "Or maybe, you just don't recognize me?"

His form shifted into a familiar looking clown, a half sob wrenched from Allen's core as the other drew closer, the once amicable smile now filled with malevolent intentions and eyes narrowed with cold apathy.

"You were fun while you lasted Allen. But now I no longer find you entertaining." Mana grinned as he caressed Allen's cheek, tears flowing down his face, shocked. "Goodbye."

Someone's shrieked as blood splattered against the floor and other corpses, falling to the floor with a thud, and everything went quiet.

****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yup, just a little post halloween drabble, nothing too special. I was in the mood for practicing this type of writing, and I was pleased with how this came out for once.


	4. Forgotten Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I forgot to post this, this is hella old, hope y'all enjoy. I had something in the works but I've been busy with real life stuff & I've had little to no motivation to write at all.

_I miss you, Allen._

Allen’s eyes snapped open, immediately awakening from his dream, those last few words echoing in his head. It was the same dream again, where he could only recall someone saying those words. Once he awoke from that dream, he felt nothing but a rush of sadness overwhelm him once again, as though the hole in his heart had been momentarily filled by whatever the dream was about. He shivered as warmth seemed to flee his body, despite being covered by a rather thick blanket.

He sighed, and buried his face in his hands, waiting for the sudden misery to pass. Every time he had that dream, he found it harder to maintain his resolve, his promise to Mana almost seeming meaningless in times such as this. He craved Mana’s presence once more, to hear that man’s laugh again, and become loss in their own, perfect little world.

His heart ached even more, and he clutched at his chest, as though his heart were about to tear into two. A knock at his door alerted him to someone’s presence, releasing his shirt and putting on a fake smile.

“Yes?” He called out as cheerfully as he could muster, ignoring the pain that tug at his heart.

 “Oh, you’re awake Allen?” The familiar, comforting voice of Lenalee made him sigh in relief, “I was just making sure you were up, it’s snowing outside our hotel! I thought you might like to see, Kanda didn’t seem too interested…”

Allen glanced towards the small window across his room, unable to really see much from his current view. “I’ll be out in a minute then, Miss Lenalee.” She let out an excited squeal and took off, the sound of her footsteps fading as she raced back down the hallway.

The snow did not bring pleasant memories to mind, as from a young age, it had only meant that he would have to find some place to sleep that wasn’t freezing and hope that he didn’t die from the bitterly cold temperatures. The winter snow brought nothing but trouble, only sickness and a deadly coldness that had taken many lives. As if to taunt him, memories of the time he had spent with Mana briefly flashed through his head. Once happy memories now only sadly recalled when he was not feeling himself.

He walked to the window and looked out to see layers of soft snow covering the roads and buildings, people in large coats hurriedly going about their business, so as to not waste any time in such frigid conditions. Hastily, he put on his clothes and stumbled about his room trying to find his cloak. Ignoring the turmoil of grief within him, he ventured out of the hotel and looked around for where Lenalee was.

Whack! A cold, ball of snow greeted him across the cheek, a perfect shot from Lenalee, who had been hiding behind the corner of the building. She grinned mischievously and began to make another snowball.

Returning the smile, Allen’s mood seemed to immediately dissipate, quickly forming a snowball of his own and hurling it towards Lenalee. She squealed as the cold ice hit her right on the nose, jumping back and blindly throwing her half finished snowball, which landed a couple feet in front of her. Laughing, Allen began to make his own pile of snowballs as Lenalee recovered, her green eyes bright with excitement.

“I’m challenging you to a snowball fight Allen!” She exclaimed excitedly, “The loser has to….do something! Whoever wins get to decide what the loser has to do!”

Allen nodded his head as he continued to concentrate on making a larger stash of snow balls.

“I hope you’re ready Lenalee!” Allen cried as he threw two snowballs in her direction, surprised to see Lavi standing where Lenalee had been. One hit his shoulder and the other missed him entirely. Lenalee had somehow gotten on his right while he had been preoccupied with making a stockpile, and threw a snowball at Lavi and another at Allen. Both hit their targets dead on.

“Hey! I’m not even apart of this!” Lavi whined as he wiped snow off of himself.

“You are now!” Lenalee said as she neatly dodged a couple snowballs Allen had sent her way.

Lavi seemed to mull over something in his mind for a moment before grinning and picking up some snow and loosely packing it. “Be prepared to lose then you two!” His snowball fell apart in his hands as he kept trying to make it. “Okay. One moment, you guys make snowballs way too fast for me.”

“No mercy rules here Lavi.” Allen continued his attack, in which Lenalee soon joined in.

“Unfair! You can’t both team up on me!”

“Says who?”

“Says m-Ouch!!! Allen, that was right in my eye!” Lavi cried out in mock pain, covering the eye that always had the eye patch over it.

“Looks like you lose then Lavi.” He said just as he caught a snowball on his arm, his former ally now turning against him as they had lost the common enemy.

“Lenalee!!! You would betray me so quickly?” 

“You were distracted, I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get the upperhand!”

Scowling, they exchanged fire back and forth with one another, Lavi encouraging them and laughing at the occasional misfortune of getting socked in the face with a snowball. They went back and forth with each other for quite a while, ignoring the judging stares of those who passed them by. They played until the game had quite exhausted the three of them. There bodies were warm and sweaty from the rigorous activity, and Lenalee and Lavi stepped inside to change and grab something to eat.

Allen found himself a place to sit out in the snow, trying to catch his breath as he gazed across the winter wonderland, his previous sentiments regarding the snow now accompanied by a playful memory with his friends. He smiled as his gaze settled upon a particular lamp post, snow glistening from the top of it. He shook his head to clear it of any large clumps of snow, running his hands over his head and sweeping whatever snow that remained away. The motion seemed familiar, the warmth of another hand doing the same motion drew him away from the present, triggering a memory that did not belong to him.

It was his own body, not in his own control, but he had gotten fairly used to going down memory lane at this point. He wasn’t sure if certain events necessarily triggered these memories, or if was just Neah forcing him to live them for his own pleasure.

Snow was falling as he was walking down a road half hidden by the small flakes, not particularly worried about losing his way as he had walked it so many times before this. He let out a breath of warm air, which instantly turned into faint cloud of fog. A small smile formed as he watched it fade after moments of forming, a part of him wishing the snow would never end.

He made a sharp turn into an alley, opening the side door and sighing as a breeze of hot air swept past him.

“Oi! Close the door Allen!” A voice he now knew very well. “It’s freezing out there, I don’t know how you or anyone else can even consider being out there. You’ll die of a cold if you’re not careful.”

Quickly entering and shutting the door, Allen shrugged out of his coat and left it on the coat rack. “And a good day to you too, Neah.” He huffed irritably, bringing himself closer to the fire, where Neah sat with some snacks beside him.

Neah’s eyes glimmered with happiness, moving himself closer to Allen once he had taken a seat.

“You realize you have snow all over your hair, right?”

“What, really? I never would have guessed.” Allen replied sarcastically, trying to brush it away with his own hands. Gently, Neah pushed Allen’s hands aside and began to wipe it off and pick at any particularly stubborn flakes that clung to his auburn hair. He did so with such a sweetness that reminded him just how sweet the annoying man could be. It had been so long since he’d had a memory, that all the feelings he had for the Noah that he thought he had buried away resurged once more, stronger than ever. If only the stupid Noah didn’t have to be so ridiculously endearing.

“Did you get it all?” He huffed as he looked away and crossed his arms. Neah murmured something under his breath, forcibly taking one of his hands and pressing both of his hands against his freezing one.

“Don’t you have gloves?” Neah asked as he kissed Allen’s freezing fingertips.

He shook his head, ignoring the warmth which spread to his face as Neah kissed his hand several more times. “No, but I don’t need them.” He said, since he had an awful habit of losing his glasses, he couldn’t imagine having to keep track of gloves. Books, he could keep organize, anything else, not so much.

Neah reached behind him and displayed a pair of fine, leather gloves, lined on the inside with soft fleece. They were quite gorgeous, and clearly quite expensive given the quality and craftsmanship of the gloves themselves.

“For you then. Can’t have you losing a hand to the winter freeze.” Neah said as he began to slip the glove on, stopped when Allen grabbed his wrist.

“I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

Sighing, Neah freed himself from Allen weak grip and handed him both gloves. “Stop being stubborn and let me repay you.”

Allen accepted them, studying them carefully for a minute before hesitantly putting them on. They fit him just a little too big, but immediately warmed his cool hands. He glanced at Neah, trying to hold back a thankful smile.

“Thank you, Neah.”

“You’re cute when you try not to smile.” Neah commented as he scooted closer to him, resting his head on the other shoulder with a sigh. He rolled his eyes and shoved neah playfully, closing his eyes and laying his head on top of Neah’s, enjoying the moment of peace they had.

He was jolted back to reality when a hand brushed snowflakes from his head, not having realized he was still outside in the cold.

“Allen, hurry inside or you’ll get sick.” Lenalee said as she wiped the remaining snow away.

Allen sighed and sat up, gazing one last time at the snow before following Lenalee inside, his heart aching for a forgotten past.

**Author's Note:**

> It's two in the morning, I hope this makes sense because I wrote this months ago and edited months ago so I have no idea if it makes sense or not. Enjoy


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